Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love-Chapter 136: Fading Away

Jared finished preparing dinner, the comforting aroma of roasted vegetables and herbed chicken filling the cozy ranch kitchen. He glanced toward the bedroom, where Jerica had retreated hours ago. The week since their sudden "relocation" to the ranch had felt like an unexpected holiday at first—quiet, serene, and surrounded by nature. But Jerica’s declining energy had begun to gnaw at his peace of mind. She wasn’t herself, and the vibrant light he adored seemed to be dimming day by day.

She spent most of her time sitting outside on the porch, staring into the vast expanse of the horizon, or curled up in bed, sleeping deeply yet restlessly. Her once-bright laughter and witty remarks had been replaced by long silences. Jared knew her illness was catching up to her, and it frightened him more than he cared to admit.

He had tried to reach out for help, to find a doctor or at least some medication, but their isolation made contacting anyone impossible. It was as though they were cut off from the world, and he hated feeling so helpless.

Jerica, however, didn’t complain. She even tried to get close to him a few times, initiating intimacy despite her obvious discomfort. Jared couldn’t understand how she could still muster such desire when her body was clearly betraying her. She must have been pushing through her pain for his sake, and the thought made his heart ache. He had gently dissuaded her each time, afraid that he might inadvertently hurt her more.

Her laptop, which had been returned to her belongings, offered a distraction. To her dismay, it had been wiped clean—every trace of her digital footprint, every piece of her work erased. Undeterred, she dove back into her responsibilities, tackling the mismanagement within her foundation. Jared admired her resilience, but it also worried him. She was using what little energy she had to shoulder burdens that could wait.

From the kitchen, he overheard her conducting a tense virtual meeting. She had already fired a few corrupt staff members and was listening to the remaining team explain their sides of the story. Her voice was firm, but Jared could hear the strain beneath it. When he finally emerged from the kitchen with dinner, he froze in his tracks.

Jerica was slumped over the dining table, her laptop closed, her breathing shallow and faint. One arm dangled limply by her side, while the other served as a pillow for her head. A sharp pang of fear shot through Jared’s chest, his mind racing with the worst possibilities.

"Jerica," he called softly, moving quickly to her side. He crouched down, his hands trembling as he touched her shoulder. "Jerica, wake up." His voice cracked with panic as he gently shook her.

His heart pounded as though it might burst. Had she fainted? Was she in pain? Was this something more serious? A flurry of terrifying questions filled his mind as he pleaded silently to whatever higher power might be listening.

Finally, she stirred. Her lashes fluttered open, revealing her sleepy, glassy eyes. She blinked a few times before focusing on him.

"Is dinner ready?" she murmured, wiping at her face and yawning as though she hadn’t just scared him half to death.

Jared exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding him like a tidal wave. "You scared me," he muttered, but he couldn’t bring himself to chastise her. Instead, he cleared the table, carefully setting out the food he’d prepared.

Jerica’s face lit up as she eyed the spread. "You made so much," she said with a soft smile, her tone laced with appreciation.

But her enthusiasm was short-lived. She took a bite, only for her face to pale. She set her fork down, her body tensing as her stomach churned. Jared reached out instinctively, his worry multiplying tenfold.

"You can’t even eat?" Jared’s voice cracked, his rising fear laid bare. He leaned closer, his hazel eyes searching Jerica’s pale face for a flicker of reassurance, but she shook her head slowly. Her expression was a blend of apology and defeat, her green eyes duller than he’d ever seen them. The sight of her, so vulnerable, pierced him deeper than he thought possible.

He sat back, dragging a hand through his dark brown hair, his heart sinking like a stone. Jared prided himself on being the man who could fix things, who could protect her from anything. But now, watching her slip further into this illness, he felt utterly powerless. The frustration and helplessness gnawed at him, a relentless ache in his chest.

Without a word, he stood, his resolve hardening. He wasn’t going to sit idly by and watch her fade. She was everything to him, and he’d move heaven and earth to save her. The stables were quiet as he stormed toward them, his boots crunching against the gravel. Two security personnel stationed near the barn looked up, their postures stiffening at his determined stride.

"I need to talk to Arthur Sutherland, now," Jared demanded, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. He didn’t care about the consequences or the layers of secrecy surrounding their forced stay at the ranch. All he cared about was Jerica. She was his entire world, and he wasn’t about to let her slip away because of someone else’s decisions.

The guard exchanged a glance with his partner, his face impassive. Without a word, he pulled out a satellite phone and made a call. Jared crossed his arms, his foot tapping with impatience. The seconds stretched like hours as he waited for a response.

"Mr. Sutherland will meet you in the morning," the guard finally said, his tone neutral.

Jared’s brows knitted together in frustration. "Why isn’t he talking to me now?" he snapped. He was on the verge of demanding more when his phone chimed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text from Arthur: I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.

Jared exhaled sharply, his fists clenching at his sides. While the confirmation eased some of his immediate anxiety, his heart remained heavy. Tomorrow felt like an eternity away, and Jerica didn’t have time to spare.

Returning to the house, Jared found Jerica lying on the couch, her delicate hands rubbing her stomach as she winced. The sight of her in pain made his stomach churn. He hurried to her side, kneeling beside her and rubbing gentle circles on her back. She leaned into his touch, her expression softening slightly as the tension eased.

"I managed to eat a little," she said after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. Jared glanced at the half-eaten piece of chicken on the plate nearby. He’d coaxed her into eating, but it wasn’t enough to sustain her. Still, he masked his worry with a small smile.

"Good," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "That’s something."

As the evening wore on, Jared carefully carried her to their bedroom. The weight of her in his arms felt lighter than it should have, another reminder of how much she’d lost. He gently placed her on the bed and tucked the duvet around her, ensuring she was warm and comfortable. The room was quiet, the faint hum of the crickets outside the only sound breaking the silence. The soft golden light of the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, making the space feel calm and intimate.

Jerica sighed, her head sinking into the pillow as she gazed at him. Jared sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on hers. For a moment, there was peace—a fragile, precious kind of peace that he wished he could wrap around her like armor.

"What if I’m not dying?" Jerica asked suddenly, her voice soft but laced with a vulnerability that tugged at his heart.